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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29125668">flicker of my heartbeat</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OliviaRedfield/pseuds/OliviaRedfield'>OliviaRedfield</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>flicker of my heartbeat (fingers in my veins) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Outer Banks (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, It will get sad, Jiara January, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:54:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,947</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29125668</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OliviaRedfield/pseuds/OliviaRedfield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What if JJ and Kiara had been dating the whole time?<br/>Relive the events of season one from the perspective of two kids desperately denying they’re in love. And when the consequences of their actions catch up with them, they’re forced to face some uncomfortable truths.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>JJ/Kiara (Outer Banks)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>flicker of my heartbeat (fingers in my veins) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2220108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>71</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Jiara January 2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>flicker of my heartbeat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was supposed to be a one-shot... 11k and a month later, here’s part one of this little series!<br/>For Jiara January 2021, alternate universe.<br/>Thank you to Lara for creating the inspiring gif, #6 (you can check it out <a href="https://jiaraweek.tumblr.com/"> @jiaraweek</a> on tumblr), and also for beta’ing!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The bathroom door slams, startling Kiara awake. The dryness of her mouth and the pounding in her head reminds her how much she drank the night before, but she’s had worse hangovers. She’s in John B’s bedroom, she realizes as the sleepy fog lifts, her head at the foot of his bed, the door slightly ajar. One of the boys must be awake, but before she can ponder on which one, a strong arm slips around her waist, pulling her close, and a voice whispers into her hair, “Mornin’, Kie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Morning, JJ,” she responds with a smile on her lips. She twists around to roll over and face him, a surprisingly difficult task given how tightly he holds onto her. “One of the guys is up, so I’m gonna go crash in the living room and hope they’re too hungover to notice I wasn’t there all night.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>JJ groans in protest but doesn’t open his eyes as she presses a kiss to his cheek and disentangles her limbs from his. Her headache intensifies a bit upon standing up, but soon she flops onto the cool sheets of the pullout bed, narrowly missing the discarded guitar that had been haphazardly thrown on it at some point last night. She must have great timing because just then the bathroom door opens, and she realizes she can’t play it off like she had been sleeping in the living room and only just woken up. Reaching out, her hand brushes something - her vape pen. Of course, she woke up to smoke, seems like a reasonable cover. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John B appears a moment later calling, “Morning, Kie!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She throws up a peace sign. “Good morning,” she mumbles, hoping to god she still sounds half-asleep. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John B’s voice is a little too loud, like usual, which worries her for a moment - maybe he isn’t as hungover as she hoped. Then he is heading toward the kitchen and reaching for a beer, his usual hangover cure, and she breathes a sigh of relief, trying to play it off as a yawn. He slams another door on his way out to the screened-in porch and she rolls onto her back, letting out a breath and closing her eyes for a moment </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That moment is interrupted when JJ throws himself onto the pullout next to her. She lets out a soft yelp in surprise, then he’s taking the vape pen from between her fingers. “Hey, watch it,” she chuckles, moving the guitar out of the way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He blows vapor into the air above him, his voice low as he says, “JB notice anything?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shakes her head, motioning for him to stay quiet, but she can’t help but smile at him. The kind of smile that makes his breath catch in his throat, that sets his hands itching to dig themselves into her hair, his mouth longing to be pressed against hers, against her neck, against her collarbone. The kind of smile that makes him want to pull her back down the hall and further desecrate his best friend’s bedroom - never mind he has stayed there so often over the last nine months he might as well call it his bedroom now. He props himself up on one elbow, his hand coming to rest on her knee as he leans in. A warning cough escapes her, and he stifles a groan of frustration when she jumps off the pullout. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’ve got to work a double and close,” she says, looking around for her backpack. “To make up for going out the first night of tourist season.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Pope stretches as he enters the room, the look on his face epitomizing the phrase ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>not a morning person</span>
  </em>
  <span>’, even without any alcohol in his system. He must have heard what Kiara said, and as he turns toward the kitchen, she shoots an </span>
  <em>
    <span>I-told-you-so</span>
  </em>
  <span> look at JJ, who shrugs. “Even with that hurricane building?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a little early for a hurricane, isn’t it?” JJ asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dunno, climate change?” Pope mutters, the sounds of rummaging through expired condiments in the fridge nearly drowning out his words. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t know you were an environmentalist, Dr. Spock,” JJ says around the vape pen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, no big words before noon,” John B downs the last of his beer upon walking back into the house. “Though I’m usually telling Pope that… Anyway, definitely a killer storm brewin’. I can smell it in the air. Will probably hit us hard tonight and tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kie blinks at him, biting back laughter. “You can smell it?” John B never fails to confuse and amuse her, even after all these years of friendship. Pope catches her eye from the kitchen and gestures in exasperation, his meaning clear: </span>
  <em>
    <span>it’s too early for his bullshit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She shrugs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure that wasn’t just your own stench?” JJ throws out. “I mean, come on, man. The Chateau has a perfectly good shower. Use it. Mostly hot water and it only leaks occasionally.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re one to talk.” Kie finds her bag and shoves her hoodie inside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You wound me, Kie. Really coming for a man’s pride there.” JJ winks at her when he thinks no one else is looking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “I will see you dumbasses after the hurricane blows over. Assuming y’all survive it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re Pogues,” John B laughs, doing their signature handshake with her as she walks out the door. “We were literally raised to survive this shit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiara chuckles softly on her way to her car, parked around the side of the house. Her laugh turns into a whine when she realizes she left her keys inside. “Looking for these?” JJ says behind her, the keychain hanging off one finger.  “You left ‘em on the table.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My hero,” she smirks. “Now I won’t be late to work.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, too bad.” He pulls his lower lip between his teeth for just a moment, eyebrows raising. “Ya know, we can still change that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She leans back against her car, allowing him to place one hand on her hip, the other beside her head. Tilting her chin just so their lips almost meet, she whispers, “Then you can explain to my dad what held me up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yikes!” he exclaims, jumping back like she’s electrocuted him. “What a way to kill the mood!” She half expects him to go inside after that and let her leave, but he lingers while she gets in her car and rolls her window down. “Have a good day!” he’s genuine as he says it, and it warms her heart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know,” she starts, leaning both arms on the window so their noses are nearly touching. “I bet my parents will be pretty focused on the storm when it blows through tonight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Like they won’t notice if I were to, say, sneak out. Or if someone were to… sneak in?” She raises an eyebrow and looks up at him from under her eyelashes in what she hopes is a sultry look. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However she looks, JJ seems to like it. He grins, slow and sweet, his eyes dropping away from hers momentarily. “Oh yeah? If someone were to sneak in, what time would be best?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s say eleven. My parents will be in their room by then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“See you then.” In the same second, he glances over his shoulder to make sure no one is watching then leans through her window to kiss her. He’s halfway back to the Chateau by the time she opens her eyes again, the taste of his lips lingering on her own. Somehow, this boy that she’s known for years keeps finding ways to surprise her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On the drive to the Wreck, Kiara thinks back to what brought her here. Ninth grade, her Kook year. For the most part she avoids dwelling on the events from that time, the year she tried so hard to fit into two worlds she nearly lost everything. During the beginning of that school year she worked her ass off to keep things the same with the Pogues, boating, surfing, hanging at the Chateau, smoking, getting tipsy on weekends. It worked, too, until her mom interfered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can’t keep wasting your life with those boys from the Cut. What will people say? We’ve worked hard for our reputation, you can’t go spoiling it. You need to make friends who are like you, who act like you. You need to connect with the girls your age. Don’t you want that? To have friends like the girls at school? To be popular and invited to all the parties? I just want you to have all the opportunities I had. I want you to be successful. Don’t you want a good life?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No. I don’t want any of that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It hadn’t mattered to Anna what Kie wanted and soon she was rearranging Kiara’s entire life to fit around extracurriculars she didn’t want to participate in, clubs she didn’t want to be a part of, parties she didn’t want to attend. She had no time for the Pogues, her boys, and none of the people in her new-and-improved Kook community seemed to like her much. A few of the girls outright hated her, made her life miserable, to the point she was ready to end it all. Until Sarah Cameron, Kook Princess, swooped in with her designer clothes and shining blonde hair and dusted Kiara off and told her she was special. Sarah Cameron, with the perfect Kook lifestyle inside her perfect little bubble, noticed a lonely girl with one foot on both sides of the island and decided to take her under her wing. Sarah Cameron, a defying-all-odds kind of popular girl, who still cared about the people around her and befriended someone who was in desperate need of a friend. Sarah Cameron, a good pretender, who brought Kiara just close enough to stab her in the back after all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>Kie hadn’t wanted to go back to the Pogues after that. She knew they would never forgive her for what she did, for how she left. Then she got the news Big John vanished, and any anxiety about reconnecting did, too.</span> <span>Her friends needed her and she was at the door of the Chateau before she could think too hard about it. John B looked surprised, Pope looked a little mad, JJ gave her a strained smile. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, apologize probably, then John B wrapped his arms around her and cried into her shoulder. Pope’s anger melted away, too, and at some point during the much-too-long and very overdue group hug that followed, he whispered to her, “Welcome back, Kie.”</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John B took his father’s disappearance poorly. Any child would, but with Uncle T in Mississippi, and no one else to look out for him, he started to spiral. And as the holidays crept up on the newly reunited Pogues, John B’s despair deepened. It took everything in the other three teenagers to get him out of bed and to school in the mornings, to make sure he was fed, that he went to work on the weekends. They decided there was no way they could leave him alone, even overnight, so they opted to take turns sleeping at the Chateau. JJ stayed there most nights, anyway, so Kiara and Pope wouldn’t have to stay often, but they all wanted to be involved in making sure John B was alright.</span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a clear November night when Kie decided to stay over. She sat by the slowly dying flames in the firepit, drinking one last beer before heading inside. Just as she finished her drink, JJ appeared at her side, making her jump. “John B crashed on the pullout,” he said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re good, if you wanna go home.</span>
  <em>
    <span>”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shook her head. “No. Mom is on my case about befriending those Kook girls. I don’t really want to have that fight again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shrugged. “Cool. Well, you can take my - John B’s bed. I can crash with him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s a whole other bed in Big John’s room.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>JJ’s eyes darkened as he stared at the dying fire. He shook his head, almost imperceptibly and she understood: that room was off-limits, at least to anyone but John B.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’ll get through this, you know?” she said. “He’s tough and we’ll help him bounce back. Besides, T should be back soon, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right.” JJ nodded, but the vacant look behind his eyes told her there was something deeper bothering him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you were close to him, too,” she said, simply. She sighed and brushed her hands against her jeans, getting ready to go back inside when JJ placed a gentle hand on her forearm. The Pogues were a touchy group, hugging, holding hands, getting in each other’s space was all common practice for them, but this. This was different. Her brows drew together as she met his eyes in the dim firelight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Kie. For coming back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for taking me back.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, fighting for the right thing to say. “No, I mean it. You could have stayed in Kooklandia, or found a new group of friends, or…” He let his voice trail off. They both knew what that last option was. “But you came back to me, to us. Thanks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tears pricked at her eyelids, and she blinked furiously so they didn’t spill over. She barely noticed JJ leaning in until his lips brushed against hers and she jumped back with a gasp. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shit, fuck, no, I’m so sorry, Kie,” JJ said in a rush, noting the look in her eyes. He brought his hand to his hair and gave a sharp tug in frustration, looking like he wanted to say more, the words dying on his tongue. She reached out, placing a hand against his cheek, making him turn to face her. She didn’t say anything in response, she simply leaned back in, kissing him fully this time. “Oh,” he breathed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiara smiles now at the memory, a sweet one. That night had quickly turned from a one-time thing into a reocurring event over the last several months, quietly and privately, no labels or pressure, not from anyone, not even Pope and John B. There couldn’t be any pressure when no one knew about it. When JJ is ready to share whatever-they-are with the world, she will be, too, but until then, they’re keeping their little tryst a secret.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The sky grows dark alarmingly fast as the day goes on. JJ and Pope sit on the dock at Heyward’s watching the clouds gather as John B walks up. “Hey, JB!” Pope says when he sits next to them. “How’d that meeting with DCS go?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Same old shit. If T doesn’t get back soon, I’m getting shipped off to foster care.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>JJ tries not to wince at his friend’s words. Foster care. He’d been threatened with that a handful of times in his life, too, back when his neighbors had still been brave enough to call in the lovely Department of Child Services. Usually when his parents fought. Of course, that was before his mom took off. After that, the visits from social workers slowed down. Luke knew how to hide what really went on behind closed doors, which was </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘none of their goddamn business anyway, how a man runs his family.’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>JJ has to agree, DCS likes to stick their nose where they don’t belong. They can’t tear John B away from his home, his family - or all that’s left of it. No. He won’t let that happen, not while he can still fight for his friend, his brother. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“... Surf the surge!” John B is exclaiming, pulling JJ from his silent musings. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Pope shakes his head adamantly. “No chance, we’ll get killed by those waves.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on! We’re all great surfers, even JJ!” John B shoves JJ’s shoulder playfully. “We’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pope is still shaking his head, though with a little less fervor than before. He seems to be coming around to the idea. JJ leans back on his elbows, eyes tracing the nearly black line of clouds piling up along the horizon. “As much as I’d love to risk my ass on those swells,” he says. “I’ve got work. Old Man McCarthy needs me to take a look at his old-as-fuck truck.” This isn’t necessarily an untrue statement. Old Man McCarthy </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>ask JJ to look at his truck. Next week. Tonight? He has something much different planned. Besides, he’s not sure John B will actually go through with it. Surfing the surge is as dangerous an activity as you can get in the Outer Banks. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Blow him off. That truck will still be there after the storm.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Got bills to pay, John B. Groceries to buy. Highs to chase.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, JJ,” Pope chimes in. “Your dad’s the one to pay the bills and buy groceries.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” JJ cries, sitting up fully to sling an arm around Pope’s neck. He ignores the statement about his dad. He likes to help out. Especially when his dad is too drunk or high to get to work. It’s all a normal part of their dynamic. “Is the golden boy suggesting I blow off work to surf a dangerous surge? Who are you and what did you do with the Pope with a stick up his ass?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pope shrugs him off with a huff. “I guess I can go with you, John B,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The boy in question pumps his fist. “Yes! Let’s go. See ya around, JJ?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, see ya!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Eleven o’clock can’t come soon enough for JJ. Sneaking into Kie’s backyard is easy - her parents might be Kooks, but they lived on the Cut until Kie hit middle school, so they know better than to waste money on fancy security systems that don’t actually do anything. Even with the wind whipping through the trees and the rain blowing sideways, he easily finds a spot to crouch near the back deck. He waits until the light in her parents’ room on the second floor goes out before coming up to the back door. This isn’t a new thing. Even before they started whatever this is they’re doing he had snuck into her house a few times, usually when she wanted weed. Back then she greeted him furtively, glancing over her shoulder to make sure she was unseen. Now she throws the door open with a wide smile, hands meeting behind his head, lips pressing to his mouth, his jaw, behind his ear, and all before he can step inside. He could stop her. Explain that if they didn’t want to get caught, they should hurry up to her room, instead of lingering in the kitchen, slow kisses growing ever needier. He could push her back. Tell her to take it slow, they have all night after all. But he knows better. When Kiara sets her mind on something, she doesn’t stop until she gets it. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Without breaking their kiss, his hands meet her hips and he lifts her onto the counter. Her hands tangle in his hair, long fingers raking through it, making it stand on end. She sighs into his mouth, sending a shock of electricity down his spine, warmth through his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Kiara, honey!” her mother calls from the top of the stairs. The couple jumps back from each other, blood rushing to cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kie claps a hand over JJ’s mouth before he can open it. “Yeah, mom?” her voice is pitched too high, but she’s trying to sound casual. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t forget to turn off all the lights when you come to bed. Don’t want a power surge if the power gets knocked out.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Got it! I will. Night!” The teenagers wait until they hear the click of the door shutting before they allow themselves to even breathe again. Breathless giggles escape them when they deem it safe enough to make noise. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s get upstairs before they get suspicious,” Kie whispers, an edge to her voice that JJ knows isn’t a result of almost getting caught. Thunder rumbles somewhere nearby as he follows her up the stairs, into her room, locking the door behind them.  </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>JJ’s alarm chimes softly just as the sun peeks over the horizon, the storm having moved on overnight. It’s much too early to be awake, but if either he or Kiara wants to avoid her parents finding them, he has to make himself scarce. Kiara sighs softly as he pulls himself from her arms. Looking down at her, the soft morning sun just beginning to wash over her, highlighting each of her curls, he almost wants to kiss her. To wake her gently with his mouth on hers. To hold her closer for just a little longer, no other intention than to be near. But they don’t do that. That’s not the kind of thing they have going on. So he gathers his scattered clothing in the half-light and quietly slips out of her room, out of the house. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He stumbles into the Chateau, exhaustion bearing down on him as he sinks onto the pullout. What feels like mere moments after his eyes close, but is probably at least a couple of hours later, John B stomps through the living room, flipping switches to check on the power. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yo, JJ,” he says. “You been outside?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Well, at least the boy thought JJ had been there all night. “I have polio, bro,” JJ mumbles. At this point, he’s afraid to move, already feeling his muscles tense up in protest of the previous night’s activities. “I can’t walk.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t take long before JJ does get up though and the two boys get the </span>
  <em>
    <span>HMS Pogue </span>
  </em>
  <span>up and running. The DCS follow up with John B would definitely be postponed thanks to good old Hurricane Aggie, so they might as well fish. They pick up Pope first, then Kie. As JJ holds out a hand to help her onto the boat, she gives him one of her brightest smiles and he swears his heart skips a beat. Which is utterly stupid. He brushes it off, instead asking if she brought any beer.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>What a way to start the summer: an early-season storm knocking away all of their responsibilities, even if just for one day. It would have been a fun enough day simply fishing and drinking and cracking inappropriate jokes, but these are the Pogues, and adventure is never too far off.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the boat we saw when we surfed the surge,” John B comments after finding the sunken Grady White.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You surfed the surge?” JJ cries. They actually did it. “That’s my boy! Pogue style!” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kie gives him an incredulous look, and he thinks for a moment she might lay into him. But she presses her lips together and says nothing. She does, however, convince them to take their evidence to the coast guard, maybe they can get a finder’s fee. Of course, that would have been a great idea, if the coast guard wasn’t totally swamped with concerned islanders looking to recoup what Agatha had taken from them. So they agree, after some resistance from Pope, that the best option is to see if they can find the owner of the boat. John B had found a motel key, so they figure that’s the place to look.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>As John B and JJ climb off the Pogue, Kie stops John B and says, “Be careful. I mean it.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” John B nods, a wide grin spreading across his face.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>JJ glances between the two of them, brows scrunched together in confusion. He didn’t expect Kie to say any such thing to him. It’s not their dynamic. She knows who he is as a person and wishing him to be careful is a little far-fetched. But the way she says it to John B rubs him wrong. It feels too… </span>
  <em>
    <span>intimate.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Just be so careful, John B,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” JJ teases, as they search for the correct room, adding a breathy air to his voice. He wraps his arm around his best friend’s neck, stroking his face. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“God, you’re so weird.” John B shoves him off.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that about?” JJ gestures behind him, indicating the whole exchange with Kie.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. Maybe she wants us to be careful.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No, duh.</span>
  </em>
  <span> JJ comes up behind John B, rubbing his shoulders. Kie’s been weird with John B ever since Big John disappeared. Maybe she’s just been worried about him, but it sets JJ on edge. He feels like he might be missing something. “Since she heard you’re being threatened with exile, she’s just been, like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh! Be so careful, John B.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Get off,” John B laughs, shrugging JJ’s hands off his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, give me that John D already,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> JJ moans mockingly. “Like when are you gonna swoop on that, man?” Even as the words leave his mouth, he regrets them. It’s not like he and Kie are exclusive with whatever it is they’re doing. But giving his best friend the opportunity to come in between him and Kie? Not his best plan.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Bro, you know the rule. No Pogue-on-Pogue macking.” JJ stifles a sigh of relief before John B continues, “Besides, you’re the one always hitting on her.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit. He knows. He has to know.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Dude, of course I’m hitting on her. She’s...” he scrambles for the right words. Don’t sound too attached, don’t sound too invested. “A super-hot, rich, hippie chick slumming it with us. Why? I can’t figure it out either, but who cares, bro? I know that door’s locked because I’ve tried it.” John B doesn’t need to know exactly what he’s tried. “Have you?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You need help. Not like a little help, you need a lot of help.” John B shoves him off, dismissing everything JJ says. “It’s like every girl who just has a heartbeat, you’re like…” He makes a sort of unintelligible sound, arms waving in front of him like some love-sick zombie.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>JJ rolls his eyes. “What? It’s not a big deal…” And it’s not. Kie flirts with other people all the time, too. It’s just a part of keeping their little secret just that: a secret. He tries to shrug it off, but the whole conversation derailed in a way he hadn’t planned on. With perfect timing John B finds the room they’re looking for. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They manage to find a map, coordinates marked for a spot way too far out to be good for fishing, a Dopp kit, and inside the safe, stacks and stacks of money and a SIG Sauer pistol. After narrowly avoiding the cops, JJ shows off the money and the gun to Kie and Pope. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m living the nightmare,” Pope groans.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The Pogues rarely disagree on anything. For all of their high spirits and teasing, they make decisions as a group. So when it comes to deciding what to do with the crime-scene money JJ took, it should be as simple as throwing out a couple options and taking a vote. Except it’s not that simple at all. The discussion lasts hours. Kie insists it’s bad karma to keep the money, but JJ points out that not all of them are as rich as she is. Pope is terrified someone will notice the money is missing, while John B is just curious to know how a marina rat like Scooter Grubbs could get his hands on that amount of cash. Finally, they agree that until they can figure out what to do with this mystery money, they need to lay low, act normal.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, and how exactly do we do that?” Pope asks.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Kegger?” Kie suggests.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>News spreads quickly around an island as small as Kildare. By the time the Pogues set up shop a decent crowd of kids from the Cut and Figure Eight alike are gathering. The tourons trickle in a little more slowly, but once the sun sets all three groups are mingling and enjoying themselves. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kiara giggles when a slightly tipsy JJ saunters up to Sarah Cameron and offers her a drink. Out of all the Pogues, he knows best her history with the Kook girl, and he jumps on any opportunity to take a dig at her. The smile drops from her face when Topper steps in. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh no. This isn’t good. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>John B pulls JJ back from the Kook boy, and for a split-second Kiara can breathe, thinking a fight has been avoided. Then Topper says, “Dirty Pogues.” And that’s the end of it. An all out brawl.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop! John B!” Kie finds herself screaming, watching in horror as Topper grabs the back of John B’s neck, shoving his face into the waves and holding him there. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees JJ bounce on his toes for a moment, wanting nothing more than to join in, to save his best friend. Before she can stop him, a sickening metallic click echoes across the beach.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you know what that is.” JJ’s voice is cocky to hide the slight tremble of his hands. He digs the gun into the back of Topper’s skull.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kie’s stomach churns, but Topper slowly releases John B and steps away. Sarah is screaming something at Kie, but she isn’t listening. “Okay, everyone listen up!” JJ bellows. “Get the hell off our side of the island!” Two gunshots ring out above everyone’s heads.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kie doesn’t remember what she screams at JJ as she shoves him, only the hurt and worry in his eyes. She barely recalls pulling John B out of the water and dragging him back into the Twinkie, only Pope offering to keep an eye on him back at the Chateau. Her next concrete memory comes when she stalks off the back porch toward her car. JJ runs after her, grabbing at her arm. “Kie, Kie, just listen!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen to what, JJ?” She yells, her voice louder and higher than she means for it to be. “What excuse could you possibly have for pulling a </span>
  <em>
    <span>gun</span>
  </em>
  <span> on everyone tonight? You were the one who said we needed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>lay low!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“He was gonna kill him! What did you want me to do?” His voice drops, gravelly with emotion. “That bastard was gonna drown John B.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kie shakes her head. “I know. I know,” she sighs. “But, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>gun? Really?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>JJ shoves his hands deep into his pockets, lifting his shoulders in a half-shrug.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She lets out her breath in a huff. She could keep berating him, heaven knows she has plenty to say, but the look on his face softens her. He knows it was dumb, and honestly, would she have done anything differently if the gun had been in her hands? “Have you eaten today?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>JJ hesitates before shaking his head. She motions for him to get in the car with her and they drive in silence to The Wreck. Using her key, they slip into the kitchen, and Kie starts preparing some of the leftovers from the day. JJ pulls himself up to sit on the bar and watch her through the window to the kitchen. It’s still silent when she brings the food to the front, leaning against the counter to face him while they eat. “You scared me, okay?” She says finally. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“The gun scared you?” He starts to ask, but she interrupts.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah a little, but not just that. It’s like,” she gestures, trying to find the right words. “It’s like you don’t stop to think about the consequences of your actions.” She winces as she says it. “Oh god, that sounded just like my parents, I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>JJ lets out a laugh. “It’s okay, Kie. You’re not really wrong. I like to act first, think later. Or better yet, not think at all.” His voice trails off and he ducks his head away from her gaze. Vulnerability is not their thing. Less talking, more kissing. Using one another’s touch to forget their worries for the day. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know.” She shoves at his knee. “Just. Be more careful, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he smiles. “Like you told John B to be careful?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” She rolls her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You told John B to be careful and I don’t see you laying into him for getting into a fight.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, last I checked, he was unconscious.” She pops a few fries into her mouth before moving to stand in front of him, placing her hands on his chest. “Besides, don’t you think I care about your wellbeing just a little more than his? Gotta make sure you can keep up with me.” Pushing up on her toes, she tries to kiss him, but he leans back with a smirk.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I just think you’re layin’ it on a little thick with him there, Kie. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh my god, be so careful, John B.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> His poor attempt at adding a breathy, sexy air to his voice makes her giggle.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh shut up,” she says, shoving at his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her waist to keep her from being able to pull away from him. “You know it’s not like that with him. I’m worried about him, being all alone. That’s all. He could get shipped off to the mainland and taken away from all of us. I’d worry if any of you were going through that.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’d be worried about any of us,” he says, pulling her even closer to him. “Does that mean, like, the same level of concern for each of us? Because I get the feeling you’d be a little more worried if you thought you wouldn’t see me again.” He leans back for just a second, gesturing dramatically to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re full of shit,” she laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, yeah, but you </span>
  <em>
    <span>like</span>
  </em>
  <span> that,” he whispers against her hair, his voice deepening in the way he knows makes her toes curl. She doesn’t say anything in response, in part because her lips are on his. She pushes into him, crawling on top of the counter, on top of him. For a brief moment, she’s extremely grateful her parents have put off installing that new camera security system they’ve been talking about. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The next day the marsh is closed for investigation. “They don’t want us to go into the marsh. That means there is something valuable down there, and you know it, man,” JJ insists. “I know you do.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He’s grasping at straws and he knows it, but John B’s whole life is on the line. He knows it’s a bad idea - he’s more self-aware than the others give him credit for - </span>
  <em>
    <span>borrowing</span>
  </em>
  <span> scuba gear from Ward Cameron in some sort of twisted Robin-Hood-like agenda. But it’s their only chance. The only way to keep John B here, at home, with them. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t see rich kids going into foster care, do you?” He says finally. And that does it. Everyone is in. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The plan is foolproof, or at least JJ thinks so. Even with the nearly empty tanks John B snagged, it should be easy enough to slip past the very distracted search groups, get into the cargo hold of the sunken boat, and back out again. He tries to ignore Kie pressing a quick kiss to John B’s cheek before he goes down - he trusts her when she says she’s only worried about him - but he thinks he might pull a face, </span>
  <em>
    <span>involuntarily</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p><span>Then Shoupe and his goons show up. And John B is thirty seconds from running out of air. And if that isn’t adrenaline pumping enough, two rogue meathead search-party members show up out of nowhere and start chasing them down. </span><em><span>Gunshots.</span></em> <em><span>They’re shooting. </span></em><span>“We’re gonna die!” Pope yells. JJ has to agree, this looks grim. But Kie grabs their fishing net.</span></p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Get down, Kie!” John B shouts. She throws the net into the water, and in the next second the pursuing boat grinds to a halt, the net caught in their motor. A final gunshot rings out, nowhere near its target, and it’s stupid, it’s so stupid, but it makes them all laugh. They made it. They’re alive. JJ doesn’t think he’s ever been more grateful for Kiara than in that moment, and that even includes that blowjob she gave him last week that had him seeing stars. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we please just open the bag?” Pope cries once they’re back at the Chateau.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, Pope, that’s a rare outburst of emotion,” John B says.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, guys, you’re literally killing me with anticipation! We almost died for this thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay,” John B mutters, pulling a canister out of the bag, and struggling with the lid for just a moment. Finally, he gets it off and tilts the contents into his hand: an old compass.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone groans. “Dude, what? That’s not valuable,” JJ says. There go his dreams of getting off this damn island, of being rich as fuck and never having to worry about anything, of keeping John B from being whisked away by DCS.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>John B doesn’t say anything. His face has lit up in a soft expression as he twists the compass around in his hands for a moment. Then he says, softly, “This was my father’s.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The Pogues didn’t realize at first exactly what that moment meant. Finding a dirty, old, barely functional compass at the bottom of the marsh in a drowned marina rat’s too-expensive-to-be-his boat. They just want to know why Scooter Grubbs had it in the first place. For Kiara that is weird enough, and after being shot at she has no intentions of pursuing the adventure any further. Her heart sinks, though, as JJ waves his hands around, dramatically retelling the story of finding Mrs. Lana Grubbs being harassed by those thugs - square groupers, he calls them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>So much for avoiding danger.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Those five words are the only ones swirling through her mind just minutes later as she pulls herself through the window of Big John’s office, making a mad dash for the chicken coop and away from the square groupers who were clearly looking for Big John. </span>
  <em>
    <span>So much for avoiding danger</span>
  </em>
  <span>, echoing again and again with each of the rooster’s calls, her heart pounding in her ears as the men grow more and more suspicious. Just as Kiara thinks they’re done for, JJ twists the chicken’s neck and it’s done. It’s quiet. The groupers leave, and the Pogues are left with a one-word clue: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Redfield.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Redfield Lighthouse? It seems reasonable enough, at least to John B. The lighthouse keeper seems to disagree, freaking out and calling security over the radio when John B asks too many questions. And Kie is running for the third time in about twenty-four hours. As she and John B make their way down the beach, away from the police, she finally voices her concerns, “I think there might be some light to moderate concocting going on at this point. And I get it… you miss your dad. I know. I just don’t understand why he would put a clue on a compass-“</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Cause he knew it would come back to me!” John B insists.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kie looks at him, one of her best friends, heart breaking. He’s hurting, she knows, she feels the loss of Big John, too, and she can only imagine that John B’s hurt is infinitely worse. She pulls him in for a hug, saying gently, “You’re losing it. You gotta pull it together.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He leans into her hug for a moment, arms tightening around her like she is the only thing holding him together. When she pulls back, he follows her, kissing her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he’s kissing her. “Uh,” she stutters, leaning away from him. “Wh-what was that?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You.,” he says, as if that explains everything. Kie ducks her head. “Ah, shit. I’m… I’m sorry. I-”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He’s flipping out. She can see it. He’s going to beat himself up over this. “It’s okay.” She tries to keep her voice sweet, but it’s a little strained.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, God, I’m an idiot.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s okay. No, it’s okay!” she repeats, still staring at his shoes, racking her brain for something else to say.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m- It’s because I’m freaking out about my dad and the DCS stuff-”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, stop. It’s okay! I get it-” and she does. She really does.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t breathe sometimes.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. Look,” she looks him in the eye now, reaching out to calm him down. “I don’t even mind.” That’s not true. She minds. She minds a lot, but now isn’t the time to unpack all of that, so she scrambles for another reason. “It’s the rules, you know? No Pogue-on-Pogue macking.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, rules.” The rules his dad had made long ago, right around the time they started noticing girls and boys and started thinking about what it might be like to kiss one of them. Big John jumped ahead of the game and set some ground rules:  the boys weren’t allowed to share a bed with Kie and no Pogue-on-Pogue macking. That first rule had been broken a few times by all of them, but usually on accident. A late night here, a kegger there and they were all crashing wherever they dropped, in the same room, in the same bed, it made no difference. The second rule, though, that one was sacred, no one broke that rule - or at least no one knew that rule had been broken. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A siren interrupts any further conversation and Deputy Shoupe’s voice barks out, “Routledge. I got you, son.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>John B slips Kie the compass just before the deputy takes them in. Miraculously, she’s let off the hook and when she’s asked who they need to call, she already has an answer. “Listen, Dad,” she says as soon as he picks up the phone. “You have to bail John B out. He didn’t do anything wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It takes some sweet-talking on her part, a promise to pick up a few more shifts, and appealing to Mike’s history as </span>
  <em>
    <span>a boy from the Cut</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but finally, Kiara convinces him to come with her. “If you skip out on your bail and I lose my money, I’m gonna hunt you down and skin you,” he snaps as they leave the sheriff’s station. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Mr. C,” John B mutters. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kie wants to hug him again, but she remembers how that went last time, so she simply hands him the compass and says, “Good. You’re gonna be good.” Then she gets in her dad’s truck.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you,” Mike says in his classic </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m-trying-to-teach-you-a-lesson</span>
  </em>
  <span> voice. “You hang out with trash, you get dirty.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She wants to snap back, to say something snarky about being the only person who seems to care about John B. To mention how Pope is the best kid on the island, smart, funny, caring. To tell him exactly what she and JJ got up to under his roof just three nights ago. But she doesn’t say anything. She clamps her mouth shut and stares ahead, trying to figure out just how she would explain all of this to JJ. They’re not exclusive, they’ve never pretended to be. But she’s seen the way his nose wrinkles when she says something sweet to John B, when she lingers in a hug with Pope. She doesn’t know if she could label it </span>
  <em>
    <span>jealousy,</span>
  </em>
  <span> JJ has nothing to be jealous of, but it’s something close to it, and she’d hate for him to be mad at John B over a stupid, adrenaline-induced peck on the mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her opportunity comes just that evening when the Twinkie screeches into The Wreck’s parking lot. Pope asks her to come with them. “Listen, Pope,” she starts, already catching a stern look from her dad out of the corner of her eye. “I’ve got a lot going on here right now. I just… I’m not coming.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And of course, John B has to come in and fix it. Something about making history and being a good friend and not enabling delusions, but she isn’t listening. She has so much more on her mind, but then he says, “You are my best friend. And I need you right now.” and she softens, just a bit. He rambles on a minute more, apologizing again for the kiss, and that makes her chuckle a tiny bit.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god! Shut up!” she cries, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.  “I get it.” she kisses his cheek, just to prove that there are no hard feelings. “Friends?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kie rethinks offering friendship up so freely as they approach the crypt John B led them to, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Redfield</span>
  </em>
  <span> carved across the top in fancy letters. It’s impenetrable and there are snakes and it’s dark and… of course, she’ll volunteer to go through the almost too small hole to retrieve whatever-it-is. It’s her best friend she’s doing it for after all. Plus, it’s all worth it when Pope’s shorts catch on the gate as they run from security guards, and he ends up running the rest of the way to the van in only his drawers. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a tape recorder. Big John’s tape recorder, and a map of Kildare with coordinates and everything. Big John’s voice fills the tiny fishing shack, and for just a moment, each of the Pogues can almost feel him there, standing with them, hunched over the same map, the soft light of the lantern lighting up each of their eager faces. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>...If something happens to me, finish what I started. Go for the gold, kid.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And just like that, it’s real. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Merchant, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the gold, everything: it’s real, and it’s just within their grasp. Kie sits by the bonfire long after the others have gone inside, absently strumming her ukulele. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Kie!” JJ calls. She jumps when JJ says her name, sliding next to her, as close as he can. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She shoves at his shoulder with a smile, “You scared me, dumbass.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re an easy target,” he grins, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her in. “So listen, Pope and John B are crashed out in his room, all cozy-like. That leaves the pullout for the two of us, and I was thinking…”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh uh,” she shakes her head. “Absolutely not, Maybank. They’d catch us for sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Worth a shot.” He lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug of defeat and pulls the ukulele from her hands. She’d been teaching him a bit, but so far, all he can remember is a C chord. “JB said your dad bailed him out earlier.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Mike was not too happy about that,” she chuckles. “But I think he’ll get over it.” She wonders just how much John B had said about that afternoon. “I’ll bet John B had a lot to say about earlier today.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“How’s that?” The fire is almost dead, but it’s warm out. The soft red glow reflects off JJ’s hair. He’s concentrating on forming a new chord, tongue between his teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you know, that whole…” she clears her throat. “Kiss thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He freezes. He didn’t know. “What kiss thing?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she’s in for it now. “Ah, we were running from the cops, and he was really stressed out, and I hugged him to calm him down, and then he kinda kissed me-”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> kissed </span>
  <em>
    <span>him?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> JJ cries, nearly throwing her ukulele before remembering to set it down. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Listen, he kissed me!” Kie shoots back. JJ opens his mouth to yell again, but she holds up a hand and continues, “And you don’t get to be mad or jealous or any of that shit you’re about to pull. He kissed me and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> kiss him back, okay? I didn’t ask for him to do that and I shut it down real quick. Besides, you’re the one who keeps teasing him about me! You’re egging him on! What the hell is that all about?” She throws her hands up, feeling an angry sneer settle onto her face, despite her best efforts to mask it. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I was just-” he huffs, trying to find the words, a reason; trying to stay mad to keep the argument going, even though it’s stupid. He doesn’t have to argue, not with Kie, and trying to win is pointless, not because she’s right, but because she doesn’t hold his mistakes against him. He can freely admit them to her and she won’t run away. He deflates a little. “I was just trying to keep our whole thing under wraps. I thought you wanted to keep this a secret.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I did, I do!” she says with a sigh. “You do too, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, it would just make things weird if they knew, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kie nods. They’ve had this conversation before, a few times.  They always say the same thing. “Right. Besides, it’s not like there’s much to tell, anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep. Just friends-”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Best friends,” she interjects, and he nods.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Best friends. Who occasionally fu-”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Sleep together.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>JJ chuckles, reaching out to pull her back toward him. Kie settles her head against his shoulder and stares into the dying fire, eyelids growing heavier with every blink. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just friends.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Standing on Heyward’s boat, staring at the wreckage of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>HMS Royal Merchant,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kiara remembers Pope’s jab at JJ about being an independent variable. Well, here’s one independent variable they didn’t account for: the gold had already been found and moved. And just like that, they’re knocked straight out of the G-game. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kie wants nothing more than to have a </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal</span>
  </em>
  <span> summer. Surfing, parties, skipping out on work; fun stuff, but normal stuff. No more gold hunting, no more adventure. Running from the police and angry men shooting at you is only fun the first couple of times, then it just gets tedious. When she notices the flyer for “Movies on the Lawn” posted at The Wreck, she sees her opportunity to reclaim her fun-filled normal summer. She drags JJ and Pope along with her and would have brought John B, too but he’s nowhere to be found. She’ll check in on him tomorrow, he’s probably just upset they couldn’t find the gold and needs a little time to process it all. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The boys are jumpy and she thinks JJ has the gun in his bag, even if he’s denying everything. It isn’t until she saves them from Rafe, Topper, and Kelce by lighting the movie screen on fire that she starts thinking maybe adventure and danger just follows the Pogues wherever they go.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So what the hell was that?” she asks the next day, the three of them gathered around the counter at Heyward’s. She almost asked last night, but knew it would just end in her laying into JJ for bringing a </span>
  <em>
    <span>gun</span>
  </em>
  <span> to a movie night, and that seemed counter-productive.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t want to know, Kie,” JJ says. He seems in high spirits, despite his split lip, that she thinks may leave a scar, the adrenaline of walking away from a fight still clearly coursing through his veins.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I sunk Topper’s boat,” Pope whispers, glancing around to make sure no one is listening. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kie notices some scratching along the side of his neck from that headlock Topper had him in and presses her lips together. “You what?” she hisses. “Of all the stupid things you could have done, you sunk the Thornon’s boat?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, lay off him, Kie,” JJ says. “We won!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We almost didn’t,” Pope says, his forehead creasing in worry.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t let it get in your head, bro,” JJ reassures him. “There were three of them, two of us. That’s some typical Kook shit right there.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kie shoots him a look, as if to remind him she was there and did in fact save their asses, but he doesn’t acknowledge, so she simply adds in, “Hell yeah!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What was your thought process with using your head?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, man,” Pope replies, clearly starting to loosen up just a little. “I just kind of acted off instinct. I was a cornered animal.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Pope,” Heyward calls. “Someone here to see you.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It’s Deputy Shoupe. As Kiara hears him say, “Arrest warrant.” she sees JJ stiffen. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re arresting him?” she asks, incredulously. She only just learned about the boat situation, but it hardly seems like something the Thornton’s should get their panties in a twist over. They could buy a dozen of those stupid boats. The only direct response is the echo of the handcuffs latching around Pope’s wrists. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Then everything and everyone gets loud, too loud. Pope is panicking, she can tell. JJ and Heyward are breathing out threats and snarky comments. She is saying something, too, but she’s not bothering to think about the precise words. Pope can’t go to jail. It will ruin everything he and his family had worked so hard for. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t him!” JJ shouts finally. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No. That’s just as bad</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The blood drains from Kie’s face as JJ explains that he used Heyward’s boat to go out and sink the Thorton’s. She watches helplessly as Shoupe handcuffs him. He’s looking back at her now, peace radiating from his clear blue eyes. She wants to run to him, to hug him, kiss him, to tell him she’ll find a way to fix this, but something in his eyes roots her to the spot. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s going to be okay</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he’s silently saying to her. And then he’s gone.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kiara is sick to her stomach for the rest of the day. She picks up her keys about a dozen times, actually gets into her car to drive to the sheriff’s station at least half of those times, but she never goes through with it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s okay,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she tells herself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s going to be okay. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Finally, she makes herself drive over there. It takes twice as much courage to walk inside the building. She asks at reception about him, but the lady is entirely unhelpful, so she leaves empty-handed, feeling worse than before. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The terrible feeling doesn’t wear off that afternoon as her mother primps and preens over her for the annual Midsummer’s celebration at the Island Club. “This is disgusting,” she says, staring at herself in the mirror in her mother’s room. Her hair is piled on her head, with one too many bobby pins poking into her skull. The dress is a pretty color, and if it had been any other day, she might like it, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>today</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she’s not in the mood for a party. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, it’s just horrible,” her mother says sarcastically. “I’m asking you to relax and go to a fun party.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kie turns slowly, trying to keep her expression neutral and her tone even. “I look like a bourgeoisie pig.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>And that’s only half of what’s bothering me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you please not worry about socioeconomic injustice for one night?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Mom, people not three miles from here have no power, no running water, and we’re going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Midsummers,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Kie spits out. “That’s so tone-deaf!” She feels it goes without saying that if this storm had blown through just over five years earlier, the Carrera’s themselves would have been in the same boat as everyone else on the Cut.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Honey, do you know how hard we had to work to get </span>
  <em>
    <span>in</span>
  </em>
  <span> to the Island Club?” her mother asks. Maybe she </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> forgotten where they had come from.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, mom,” Kie replies, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “How could I forget? You had to grovel for, like, ten years.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Twelve!” she responds, crossing to the bathroom. “And we also had to cough up a huge chunk of dough, and do you know why we did that?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“To keep up with the Joneses?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” she scoffs. “So you could have the same experiences that I had as a child. Honey, do you know what the Island Club is?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kie has told her parents time and again that she doesn’t care about those Kook experiences. She doesn’t care about groveling or kissing up or college or marrying rich or legacies. And they still don’t seem to understand. “A factory farm for debutantes.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>That line from Kie seems to frustrate her mother, but she says, evenly, placing her hands on Kiara’s cheeks, “It is a nice place, with nice people, where you can do fun stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“With out-of-touch rich people, while the island sinks slowly into the ocean,” Kie monotones. Another party, another of the same age-old arguments. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Anna says flippantly. “I want you to put on your party face, Kie, if you wanna live.” She turns on her heel and leaves the room.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kie sighs, turning back to the mirror and tucking a stray hair out of her face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>After tonight, you’ve got one more year of this bullshit, then it’s off Thailand. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She pauses for a second, wondering briefly if JJ would like Thailand, but she brushes the thought aside. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, party face.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She flashes a smile at her own reflection, then sighs, rolling her eyes. It would be a long night. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as she arrives at the Island Club, she spots Pope. His back is to her. Putting on a posh accent, she says, “Excuse me, sir, do we have to shuck these ourselves?” He turns around with an obvious roll of his eyes. “‘Cause it might mess up my costume,” she laughs. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>With a smile and an equally awful accent, he says, “Well, we wouldn’t want that, now, would we?” She reaches out for the Pogue handshake while he laughs, “That accent was bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah it was. I’m just gonna let it go.” She sighs surveying the frankly gaudy display in front of them. “You ever see this many Kooks in one place?” Even being a new member of the Island Club, she knew what to expect: kitschy costumes, glaring lights, too much bad champagne, flowery speeches, brown-nosing, the works. Looking at it all now, it’s overwhelmingly tasteless.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Pope nods. “Last year.” The Heywards work Midsummer’s every year.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re in the lion’s den,” she says, watching Kelce and Topper pump each other up, and feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. It was as if they hadn’t been threatening the Pogues’ lives just twenty-four hours earlier. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly,” Pope agrees, going back to the grill. “Hey, have you heard from JJ?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Ducking her head to side, she replies, “No.” She doesn’t add that she wishes she would have. That she tried to find out if he was okay. That she thought about driving to his house to see if he had made it home. So she deflects, “He’ll be alright. You know, he’s got the survival instincts of a cockroach.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s all my fault,” Pope mutters, shaking his head.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t do this, Pope. Topper almost killed you, remember?” Pope shakes his head again, opening his mouth to respond as the crowd lets out a soft cheer and light applause. Ward and Rose Cameron make a grand entrance, the sun glinting off Rose’s ridiculous-looking headpiece. Kie sneers, “Here come Lord Capital and the Exploiters.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pope fights the look of confused horror trying to wash over his face. “She’s definitely gonna poke somebody’s eye out with that.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The night drags on agonizingly slowly. Kiara’s eyelids droop as another old lady tells her some story from when her mother was small. It’s too late, the food is too rich (but it is delicious, props to Heyward), and she can’t even wash it down with champagne or she’ll get an earful from her mother, or maybe grounded. Just before she screams at the hag to just</span>
  <em>
    <span> shut the fuck up already</span>
  </em>
  <span>, commotion erupts by the door. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoo!” a familiar voice hollers. “It’s okay everybody! Do not panic. Let’s leave it to the men and women in uniform.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her heart leaps: JJ. He’s alright. Or at least, he’s alive, though he’s definitely gotten himself into some other sticky situation. “Excuse me,” Kiara says to the lady. “That’s my friend, I need to check in with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Rose!” JJ continues. “You look like Lady Liberty. Good to see you again. Ooh,” he reaches out for someone’s drink. “Can I have one of those?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Let go of him!” Kie cries, crossing the deck to get closer to the guard escorting him out. “You can’t just boot him!” Her parents are fussing, begging her to stop, but JJ has been in enough trouble lately. She can’t let this go, not when she can help. “I’m a member of this club!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She hadn’t meant for her little speech to be a distraction, she hoped it would actually work, that the guard would actually let him go, but JJ takes whatever chances he can get, so he shoves the guard, sending him crashing into a server, champagne flying across guests. “Sorry about that!” he calls as he takes off, clearly not sorry at all. “Hey! Mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie! Pope, you as well, all right? Rixon’s Cove, let’s roll.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kie glances back at her parents for just a moment. They will have her hide if she follows the boys. Turning back toward JJ, she meets his eyes, and he can see her hesitation. “All right, Kie,” he smiles. “Come on!” He grabs his wrist, throwing his hands above his head in a show of rebellion. “Workers of the world unite! Throw off your chains!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kiara grins, warmth spreading across her from his very words. It’s stupid, but a part of her loves him for this. She takes off, managing to book it faster than her mom can in heels, making it out of her parents’ reach in seconds. “Come on, Kie!” she hears JJ call again.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Laughter bubbling up out of her as she runs toward him, JJ throws his arms open to greet her. The high of the moment overshadowing any fears about the others catching on, she wraps her arms around his neck, and he lifts her off her feet, twirling her around before taking her hand and running toward the beach. She yells, the adrenaline washing over her. So this is what freedom feels like. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>JJ helps Kie off the boat while John B starts a fire. Even though their only light is the stars, she is radiant. Between the flowers in her hair and the purple of the dress, he can’t take his eyes off her. She’s a goddess incarnate. There is no way she exists outside of his imagination, she is too perfect. But even then, he doubts he’s inventive enough to have made her up. He thinks for just a moment that no one would notice if he kissed her, right then and there. No ulterior motives, but just to feel her soft lips on his, the smoothness of her skin, her hair, that dress, and know she’s real, she’s actually there, glowing in the starlight.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, guys,” Pope says, breaking JJ from his worshipful reverie. “So, like, my dad’s already gonna kill me, so what’s this mandatory meeting about?” The group gathers closer to the fire. Kie sits on a piece of driftwood and begins unstrapping her high heels. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>JJ looks across the fire at John B. He’s doing that stupid finger-guns thing. How this man managed to land Sarah Fucking Cameron with finger-guns is beyond JJ. “Might as well tell them, man, before we’re gaffed.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You ready for this?” John B asks.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Kie nods.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So the gold never went down with the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Royal Merchant</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” John B starts.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Here we go again with this,” Pope groans.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, alright!” JJ says. “Hear him out.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been here the whole time,” John B says slowly. “It’s on the island.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They’re back. JJ grins while John B shows his letter to Kie and Pope. They’re back in the G-Game, baby! He crosses to John B and wraps his arms around his best friend, ignoring the warnings about the bonfire behind him. “I am so proud of you right now.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, so, guys,” Pope says. “What’s the plan?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Good question!” John B points at him and explains, “Sarah Cameron’s coming tonight. She’s going to bring an </span>
  <em>
    <span>original</span>
  </em>
  <span> survey map-”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” Kie calls out. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. JJ casts a worried look between his best friends. “Hold on,” she continues. “Sarah? Wh-why Sarah?” She looks up at JJ for an explanation.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“This is gonna be good,” JJ mutters.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Sarah,” John B stutters. “Um, she… she got me into the archives in Chapel Hill yesterday, and that’s where I got the letter.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You were in </span>
  <em>
    <span>Chapel Hill </span>
  </em>
  <span>with Sarah Cameron?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, um…”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>JJ’s had enough. “He was mackin’ on her.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t macking,” John B says.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You were totally macking Sarah Cameron.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t macking on her, okay? I was using her for access.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“There was access, all right.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you tell her about the treasure?” Kie shakes her head.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I was just trying to get into the archives!” John B cries.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>JJ chews his lip, watching Kiara throw her hands up and continue yelling. He tunes out the arguing, something he’s good at. He knew she wasn’t going to like this, he’d warned John B, but even his oldest friend rarely listened to his advice. He zones back in to hear Kie tell John B that there’s a lot he doesn’t know about Sarah Cameron. “What did she do to you, exactly?” JJ asks, evenly, knowing the whole story already. It was well overdue for her to tell the others what went down during her Kook year. He hopes she’ll finally get her head out of her ass and let it all out. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s like a-” Kie fumbles over her words. “Like a spitting cobra! First she- she blinds you and then-”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“This is a bad analogy,” Pope interjects.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen to me!” she cries. “Whatever we get, she’s gonna try to take.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Trust isn’t something JJ gives freely, but he trusts Kiara, so when she says Sarah Cameron is bad news, he’s inclined to believe it. He also trusts John B, so to say he’s feeling torn is an understatement. After much more arguing, John B finally convinces Kiara to get in the Twinkie. As thunder rolls in the distance, he swears he’s just using Sarah to get to the gold.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t about you,” Kie says firmly. “This isn’t about us. This is about her. Dude, she’d going to get inside your head. Just promise me nothing’s happening between you guys.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise,” he says, earnestly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That was really believable!” JJ says.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“A hundred percent believable,” Pope agrees.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyways.” John B brushes off their snarky comments. “I’m gonna take care of business.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna take care of that business </span>
  <em>
    <span>so well</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” JJ says. Kie kicks at his boot.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll just sit here,” Pope complains. “In the hot-ass car. While it’s lighting.” John B slams the door. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kie leans forward, placing her chin in her hands, an almost pout on her face. Not that JJ would say anything about it. Not if he wanted to keep all of his body parts.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It takes Pope all of two minutes before he mentions it though. “Kiara, holding onto your grudge is like drinking poison and thinking Sarah will die.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly,” JJ agrees. And that is exactly the wrong thing to say because Kie turns on him, eyes shooting daggers. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That isn’t what this is, and you know it, JJ,” she practically growls out. He throws his hands up in mock surrender. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pope glances between the two of them for a moment, piecing together who knows what about Kie’s Kook Year. Finally, he rolls his eyes. “Well, whatever it is, I think you need to let it go.” He sighs, climbing out of the van. “I’m gonna take a leak and pray to God I don’t get struck by lightning.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kie groans, dropping her face back into her hands. Her voice muffled by her hands, she says, “I’m sorry. I’m being a bitch.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you are.” Wrong thing to say, again, but the glare directed at him has no fire behind it. He tries a different tactic. “You know you can trust John B. He’s not going to let Sarah Cameron hurt you again.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that, JJ. I do trust John B. It’s Sarah Cameron I don’t trust. And she could hurt him a lot worse than she hurt me.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess you just gotta let him make his own mistakes.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I’ve been doing,” she laughs dryly. “And look where that landed us. I mean, even Pope got into trouble.” She slid off the seat and knelt next to him, reaching out for his face. “And these bruises look worse. These aren’t from Rafe, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>JJ pulls away from her, unable to hold her gaze. “No. Ah, my old man…” he swallows thickly. He hadn’t felt this way telling Pope where these new marks came from. Now, looking into Kiara’s eyes, he feels his soul is bare and she can see every crack, every scar, every fresh, bleeding wound. He doesn’t think he can handle that.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, JJ,” she whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head, forcing a grim smile to spread across his face. “It is what it is, you know? You know how it can get.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kie nods, slowly, solemnly. “I wish I could do… something.” She shrugs helplessly. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He takes her hand and leans in with a smirk. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he says “You could let me rip that dress off you.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She rolls her eyes, and shoves at his shoulder. “One track mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I mean that in the best way! You look… beautiful.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pope comes back before Kiara has a chance to respond. Instead, she slips back into her seat, and JJ returns to his blunt. Pope asks about something he probably knows the answer to, just to break the ice, and JJ responds reflexively. But out of the corner of his eye, he’s watching Kiara. Watching as she pulls the stray hairs off the back of her neck and tucks them back into her updo. Watching as she smooths out the wrinkles in her dress in a way that belies just how much she actually likes dressing up, feeling pretty as well as looking it. Watching as she turns to stare out the window. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” she says after a moment, leaning forward. “Do you guys hear that? Shh!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Please, somebody help!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> a voice calls over the thunder and wind.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, wait, no I hear that!” JJ cries.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The three of them run up the beach to see Sarah Cameron hunched over a nearly unconscious John B. “Sarah, what happened?” Pope yells.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what to do,” she sobs. JJ has never seen her so distraught. The perfect Kook Princess really does have a soft spot, it seems. “He needs help. Topper shoved him.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Topper</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Where the hell is he?” JJ cries.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, please, please, please get help. I don’t care who. Just call someone.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pope takes off running before JJ even calls out, “Go, go!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Pope hurry!” Kiara screams after him. She looks back down at John B, his eyelids fluttering as he swims in and out of consciousness. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“John B, stay with me,” Sarah sobs leaning in to kiss him. “Please, don’t leave me.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kiara is breaking, JJ can see it. His heart is shattering, too. But this Sarah isn’t the same Sarah Kiara described. She’s not the ruthless bitch of the stories. She’s just a kid in love, scared to lose the people she cares about. Watching her sob and clutch John B close to her chest, he tries not to think about what he would do if it was Kiara lying half-dead on the beach. “Pope!” he screams. “Come on!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They’re running out of time. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let me know what you think in the comments or come scream at me on tumblr: <a>@largedenominationsplease</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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